Stones
by pyxistar
Summary: Can you be drowned by your own thoughts?


Can you be drowned by your own thoughts?

A stone. She was a stone tossed into the rapids of life. Stones sink, Marinette thought, and she envisioned herself tumbling to the bottom of the river and drowning. She felt the pressure of the water against her chest, even as she laid on her back on her bed.

She pressed a hand against her cheek. It felt inflamed with life. A wildfire was raging inside of her bloodstream and causing her skin to flush a warm, bright red. Shame stirred inside her as she reflected upon her current predicament. Marinette wished she could sink like a stone through the floor, or that Tikki could help her phase through it. She reached up with the back of her hand and wiped away the small beads of tears that began to collect in the corners of her eyes. Marinette refused to cry.

The darkness covered her like a blanket. Marinette listened to Tikki's soft breathing as she slept next to Marinette's head, cozily curled up on the other end of the pillow. Not even Tikki notices, she thought. Alya hadn't, either. No one had. When Marinette sat down at her seat without greeting anyone with her typical vigor, she didn't get the overload of attention she'd anticipated. Her emotions clashed like two tectonic plates within her. On one hand, people noticing her strange behavior was embarrassing. The odd glance made her body turn to stone, frigid and cold. On the other hand, Marinette thought, she wished that someone would tuck her underneath their arm and whisper delicately into her hair that it was okay.

Marinette shook those thoughts away and slid off her bed. Careful not to rouse Tikki, she tiptoed to the other side of the room and walked out onto the balcony. She sat down in one of the chairs and let the cold, evening air fill her lungs.

Paris was a huge city but somehow it felt too small. It felt constricting. Marinette longed to venture beyond its boundaries. Perhaps then she would have enough room to feel without inconveniencing someone. Maybe then she would have the room to scream her throat raw without attracting the unwanted attention of other people.

Is it normal to feel this way?

Looking out at the towering skyscrapers in the distance, Marinette could feel their weight spreading across her aching shoulder blades. There, the source of her problems. The root of her misery. The telltale sign of her selfishness.

Being a superheroine was stressful. It was unrelenting. The older she got, even with the few strides they've made to uncovering Hawk Moth's identity, the harder it got. The more ruthless Hawk Moth became. The endless battles became tiresome. The former relief that filled her after the end of a battle, when she turned to bump her fist with Chat's, became tinged with anxiety. The battle wasn't over, not really. Another would come to take its place, sometimes only half an hour later. Sometimes less.

Marinette was worked to the bone and her parents didn't understand. She couldn't talk to them about it. Her friends didn't understand. They barely noticed. Adrien didn't understand. Chat Noir...

Her heart clenched when she thought of him. He seemed so carefree, so happy. Then he caught onto her shortcomings and her doubts and she watched the happiness inside of him chip away. Chat Noir seemed haunted by the realization that Ladybug was losing patience, losing empathy, losing hope.

She felt numb to the cries of others. Marinette leaned over the railing of the balcony and stared at the pavement below. The night was moonless. Even with the streetlamp, it looked like a deep void. Was that was it was like looking into her eyes, devoid of care and soul? Marinette frowned at that thought. The weight on her chest grew. Every breath was a struggle, a fight for oxygen. She rested a shaking hand on her collarbone.

I'm no better than Hawk Moth.

With that thought, Marinette slumped onto the balcony floor and let herself be consumed by misery. She wept until her eyes were sore and her shirt was damp. Then she curled up against the chill of the night until her fingers and toes were so numb that moving them was difficult; only when the breath of dawn arrived did her body begin to thaw.

Marinette drowned in her own thoughts and no one noticed the bubbles rising to the surface...

The following afternoon, Ladybug felt half-tempted to take out her earrings and place them into the awaiting palm of the next akuma victim. Chat Noir grinned at her, wearily, and offered her his first. She lightly bumped hers against his and then, without saying anything, turned to flee the scene. Ladybug wanted — needed — to rest before the next, inevitable villain came along.

A hand appeared on her shoulder. She paused. "You'll be okay, LB. I don't know what you're going through, if it's just the stress of saving the city every day or if there's something more, but you'll be okay. You're the strongest person I know."

Marinette was a stone. Ladybug knew this. But Chat's light touch and his soft words lifted a small pebble's worth of weight. And even that allowed her to breathe a little easier, to hold her head up a little higher. Still, when she turned back to smile, not even she believed it. "Thank you." She said.

And then she was gone.


End file.
